The Nazgul Ride Forth
by Darkaus
Summary: Say the Nazgul hadn't faded once The ring was Destroyed, what would they be willing to unleash to become nine once more? Updated! Please Review! I Own nothing, and I make no money.
1. Default Chapter

Author's note: I own nothing. Welcome to The Lord of the Rings.

The Nazgul stood mounted at the ready, their chargers hot breath rising in the evening mists. Mist had no place in these lands, chill had never threatened these stones and dusts. It was quiet now… quiet and still. The eight were armed to do battle with an enemy no longer there. The Eye of Sauron had fallen, the ruins of the tower where it had stood were all that remained as a testament to the horror that had been Mordor. In the silence one dismounted, boots making a terrible clank as they hit the ground, he moved forward from the rest. Rusty gauntlets pushed aside rock and ancient wall to reach the cracked doorway. He turned to faced the rest, his breath frosting the stone.

_"...There is… nothing left worth saving." _One by one his fellows dismounted and came to his side. _"... We have no choice... we must move on."_

The hoods of the eight lowered in a parody of grief. Lost was that feeling, lost was all feeling. _"We cannot ... it is pointless... we must fade..."_ Without the Dark Lord to guide their thoughts, a terrible emptiness had penetrated their tattered minds. Thought they were no longer capable of emotion, something at the core was able to sense its absence. _"We are no longer complete... ... we are... only eight now..."_It seized them in turn, heads rose, eyes burned, gauntlets clenched… the riders turned away from the ruins, moving back to their mounts, not once looking back._ "We must find the Witch King... And become nine once more, then... ..."_

Shrieks rang out as they rode forth onto Gondor. Hooves echoed thunder into the night, filling the air with dust. Midnight crawled in their wake, laying its shroud over the stones…

A lone Fell beast croaked after them before leaping into the sky and swallowing the moon in its wings.


	2. Chapter One Into the Darkness

Author's note: I own nothing.

_**Chapter One. Into the Darkness**_

(This darkness... colder than the bite of midwinter and yet, warm...)

Slowly Gandalf opened his eyes, glancing about to see if anyone had noticed his silence. He was alone. He closed his eyes once more, bidding the vision to return, nothing... A strange vision it had been. The Nine black riders should have fallen with their master, and departed this plane to wherever a creature such as them would be sent. (So why then... that chill of midwinter, so unmistakably their aura...) why was it advancing from Mordor? Could it be that eight of the Nine could have survived? Or worse still... (It cannot be possible.)

A creak from the doorway pulled his attention. Legolas looked around the room, nodded to himself, and was turning to leave when he spotted Gandalf's form beside the fire. "I had a feeling you were present here, with the way you come and go one never knows. What troubles you?" he drew a chair from the wall and sat beside him.

Gandalf smiled, "I am troubled?" the elf prince nodded, his eyes wise beyond his seeming years.

"You are troubled, and should you wish to speak of it, I will listen."

The wizard sighed, watching the fire dance on the logs. "Many things have in their time troubled me, some linger still. You would not have the time for such ravings when your comrades in arms would rejoice with you." Legolas laughed, his eyes sparkling. "I will not be missed, Aragorn has his heart and his hands full this night, and the others are enjoying each others company well enough." His smile dimmed. "Though Frodo is distant from us..."

A hand descended on his shoulder, "He has born a burden few have had to bare, he, I fear, may never be the same after it. Had there been another way... but there was none. It does no good to regret such things in happy times."

Legolas nodded, "You are still yet to tell me what troubles you."

Suddenly the door behind them burst open, Gimli entered, unabashed by their surprised faces and tense shoulders. "Why are you both in the shadows? A misdeed you do us, to consider our company so poor on a night such as this! Why," He made a gesture of raising his cup high. "The moon is bright, and the victory is as good on the mind as the ale is in the stomach! There's also dancing, if you have a like for that nonsense. Knowing you Elf…"

Legolas laughed, "I know your true aim, you only wish us to join the rest so we can have a drinking contest." He looked over at Gandalf and smiled good naturedly. "It is the only contest between us in which he has been victor." Gimli sputtered and Gandalf laughed.

… 

Aragorn watched the others, a smile gracing his lips. To think, their great adventure was over, and what a way it had ended...  
The hobbits Merry and Pippin had drawn the crowd's attention with one of the famous bar songs. And truth be told, none can sing those songs quite as a hobbit can. A chill breeze blew then through Gondor, the moon covered her face behind the clouds. Rising from his seat surprisingly unnoticed for a new king, he strode to the end of the rising and looked down upon the fields stretched before the great city, their greatest battle ground...  
A new sound rose on the wind, a wail that's strength faded even before it was begun… Weak it was, inaudible to ears that had not heard it many times and clearly, the faded cry of Nazgul. Aragorn's hands clenched, his face was disbelieving. There, on the field, a great beast stirred.

Rising to its haunches as if only sleeping it stood, head reared back. Wings unfurling in the night air, it gave no cry, but lowered its head once more. And waited... (..what is it waiting for... what does this mean?) Spurred by dread he hurried from the festivities, descended the white tower, never noticing that none seemed to see him pass. He ran through the city streets, and through the front gate, lit brightly with torches and un-patrolled for the celebrations.

…

Up at the White tower's summit a terror seized Gandalf's heart. "Aragorn… Where is Aragorn? Did any see him leave? We must find him!"

Gimli laid down his drink, "Peace Gandalf! In this crowd not even a king could be kept track of!"  
Gandalf was already gone. Legolas rose swiftly and followed. Stunned, Gimli turned confusedly back to his drink. "Sore losers I wonder? It cannot be that Aragorn is a necessity to the game!"

Samwise stopped in mid step on his way back from the banquet tables, his hand let the plate fall to the grass. "Something's not right, or I'm not Samwise Gangee… Mr. Frodo?" The seat where Frodo had been sitting was empty, the table where Merry and Pippin had been dancing was also abandoned. Their crowd had turned to the white tree, a heavy silence descended. Samwise swallowed, the feeling was getting stronger… "Mr. Frodo? Mr. Frodo! Where are you?"

He pushed his way into the crowd, passing Merry and Pippen who were pale. "Mr. Frodo!"

The former ring bearer had turned his eyes to the White Tree, at its trunk a dark stain had bled over the bark, charring it black. His eyes were milky, his hand was clutching at his shoulder "...The dark one..." He whispered, "he's here..."

…**Outside on the Fields**

Cautiously, Aragorn approached the beast, who disregarded him as if he was no more than a speck of dust blown astray by the wind. It drew a deep breath that emerged as a creen. Lying prone before it the empty robes of the Witch king were spread, lank and lifeless, abandoned. Confused Aragorn withdrew. (The beast mourns its fallen master? To think that anything could mourn such a creature defies nature.) Silently, he drew his blade. The monster was quiet now, but there were no reason to take unnecessary chances. The call came again, stronger now, compelling, insistent... The sword was suddenly too heavy in his hands. He struggled to hold it, stunned by the change…

The sword fell from the kings grasp.

As the blade struck the earth the Nazgul's shriek shattered the night. The clouds fled from the sky, showering cold moonlight upon the field. Before Aragorn the Witch King lay, his eyes glowed like the fires of Mount Doom from the darkness of his ruined helm. In his hand he grasped Aragorn's blade. The steel darkened in his icy grip, frost running down the sides as the air around them froze.  
Silently, Aragorn sank down before the creature, unable to fight the compulsion in the Nazgul's eyes. His breaths showed frostily in the deathly chill.

…Like a nightmare breathed to life, like a titan, like the shadow he was the Nazgul Lord rose above him. His shape showed to Aragorn's eyes the black blood that stained his tattered robes and battle Armor. The winged mount reared, retreating from the force that its rider was emitting, wings flapping the chilled air about.

With a cry Aragorn crumpled, his blade sank home into his own warm breast. Eyes wide in shock he coughed, blood filled his mouth as he shuddered on the steel. A sound escaped the Ringwraith, almost a laugh. The moon was hidden once more.

_ "Into your warmth, my chill descends  
To your limbs, my strength I lend  
Within your breast, my darkness pour  
From your life, I live once more!"_


	3. Chapter Two Dark Prophesy

Author's note: I own nothing.

**Chapter Two. Dark Prophesy**

Running down the white tower Legolas froze as the cry of the Nazgul pierced the air. From outside the window came a lightning flash with a crack of distant thunder.

"What in middle earth was that!" Gimli called as he ran down behind them, the hobbits following close behind.

"That was a Nazgul!" Legolas jumped the remaining stairs. The dwarf barely managed to keep close to him as they ran.

"Not possible, they all died with the ring!"

Far ahead of them Gandalf cursed under his breath, the field was now visible, swirling above it a fell beast screeched a challenge into the air, swooping and diving at something lying prone on the ground. Gandalf raised his staff and white light poured over the creature. It screamed at him, attention diverted from its prey. The twang of the bow sounded as the bolts let fly, digging into the beast eyes and throat.

It shrieked once more, spasming in the air before falling to the ground with a ligament tearing thud. Gandalf looked over his shoulder at Legolas, who blanched at the fear in the wizards eyes. "Well done Legolas, I will congratulate your shots again if we discover that the beast hasn't crushed its prey beneath it." The group ran out onto the field. The fell beast's carcass lay twisted on its side, great wings crumpled under its bulk, blank eyes watched the groups approach. Pippin shook his head and raised the cloth of his shirt under his nose,

"Ugh... this is a smell that someone just won't let me forget... and I thought the last one was bad..."

Merry looked over at him, "The last one was bad when they burned it..."

Pippin shook his head, "No, the burning took the edge off the stench..."

Gandalf was walking around the small space, searching for any trace of Aragorn. Almost timidly, Legolas raised one of the wings and peeked beneath it. His face went pale. "Gandalf, I found him..." Not looking at all pleased the wizard came over and mumbled some words under his breath. The beast rose into the air for a few moments, falling back to the ground once Gimli slid beneath and pulled Aragorn free. The entire company froze.

There was no trace of life in the king's face; the skin was as pale as the white tower. A thin coat of frost covered his skin, and his light breaths were like the north wind. His eyes were open, the pupils dilated and staring into emptiness, frozen as if seeing still his attacker. "...Gandalf..." Legolas whispered, kneeling beside him. "What is this?" The wizard's eyes were dark; gently, he raised Aragorn's head into his lap. The other hand motioned to Legolas, he nodded and reached out, hands resting on the hilt.

"Do it now Legolas." Legolas braced and pulled the great blade free. Instead of blood a stream of black fluid seeped out, slowing to a stop as the wound closed before their eyes. "We must take him back to the tower... until I can discover what has transpired here... Legolas, help me with him."  
Silently the two carried the king back threw the gates. "Bad happenings these are, wouldn't you say Mr. Frodo?... Mr. Frodo?" Sam turned, his friends back was to them, one hand clenched over the spot on his shoulder. There, where the Witch kings dagger had sunk when their quest was new. His head lowered in silent defeat.

"We tried so hard Sam... was it all for nothing? If they still walk abroad... then the ring..."

"Don't think that Mr. Frodo! We both saw the ring fall into the fires! We did what had to be done!"

Frodo smiled, "They still walk Sam, and if they still walk... then the Darkness is only sleeping..."

**Within the White Citadel:**

**  
** "How did this happen Gandalf?" The old wizard sighed, letting his eyes rest for a few moments.

"Peace Faramir, it is unlike what befell you. There is no fever, to tell truth there is no heat at all."

The young steward nodded, watching his king's face in silence. "But it was inflicted by one of the Nine."

Gandalf nodded, "Yes, I only wish I knew what has been done. He seems in no immediate danger, but his skin... mortal skin cannot endure such cold..."

The door opened as another maid came in with blankets, she lay them at the foot of the bed and left. Faramir sighed, "Do the blankets help?"

Gandalf shook his head no. "They would, if the chill was not coming from inside…" Once more the wizard rose to his feet and walked around the bed, symbols spreading out behind the line his staff traced. "Reveal! Come forth and show us! Darkness within, show your nature!" the symbols glimmered, a dim glow settled over Aragorn's form. With a crack like lightning the spell shattered, fragmenting around them, the glow faded. Gandalf shook his head, with a sigh he sank back into his seat. "This is what has happened with every spell I have tried, the darkness repels them."  
Once more the door opened, the silluet of a woman shone on the floor for a moment before she entered the room. "The people are becoming restless; they want to know what has befallen their king. May I suggest someone tell us what's happening?" Eowyn leaned against the doorframe, her arm still in a sling resting beside her. Gandalf strained a smile.

"As soon as we know what is happening, I have no wish to throw the kingdom into a panic because those treating the king don't know the answers."

She shook her head. "You needn't worry for that, they are already in one." Faramir stood and left the room.

Gandalf looked after him a moment before turning back to her, "I hope he can calm them, for progress here promises to be slow."

Eowyn sat beside him. "So you do not know what is causing it?" Gandalf rose once more, taking his staff and circling the bed, mumbling the incantation under his breath. The symbols obediently spreading out behind him, and he completed the circle and stood. For a moment he paused to consider his wording, and then decided what to invoke, if invoking a name showed no result, then he would just have to keep trying, or admit defeat.

"Revel! By the power of the Valar! By Mandos of the halls! Darkness within! Reveal your nature!" Once more the glow surrounded the king. It wavered for a moment, threatening to snap... Both Eowyn and Gandalf drew back in shock as a flash illuminated the room like lightning, an eerie green fog seeped around their feet.

The form of the Witch king lay transparent around Aragorn's prone form. Gandalf fumbled for a moment, but regained control. "Explain this! By the Valar! Explain this manifestation!"

Sharp and piercing, the ancient language of Mordor echoed around the tower, filling the heart of all who heard with terror.

**_The eyes once clear, the darkness clouds  
A hearth of ice his warmth enshrouds  
When darkness falls, the Nazgul calls  
And from within an answer sounds_**

When all the light has fled from sight  
And broken splinters of mortality fall  
Returned will be the Ringwraith's might  
Return to darkness, sorrow all

Those that were broken will be whole  
Their shrieks shall pierce the night  
The end of the king, at Mordor's gate,  
The final, death of light...

The eyes once clear, the darkness clouds  
When all the light has fled from sight  
Those that were broken will be whole  
The final, death of light.

_"Into your warmth, my chill descends  
To your limbs, my strength I lend  
Within your breast, my darkness pour  
From your life, I live once more!"_

For a moment all was silent, the glow around the king's form faded, with it, the transparent form of the witch king. Gandalf moved forward cautiously, seeing all was well he sank back into his seat. "...Ga...Gandalf? What... what did that mean?" There came no response from the wizard. "Gandalf! That Language! What did it say!"

Slowly he looked up, his eyes met hers. "I... I am not sure. I need time to decipher it. I can tell you this however, this will not be an easy battle to win, and we are running out of time."


	4. Chapter Three Onward to Gondor

Author's note: I own nothing.

**Chapter Three. Onward to Gondor**

The Black riders pace never changed. Though their horses were Mortal beasts, the will of the Nine had always been able to spur them on. Steam rose off midnight flanks and breath wheezed, the dirt exploded beneath thunderous hooves. One stallion screamed, unable to vent his pain in any other form, the hands at the reins unforgiving and cruel.

Only an hour past Minas Morgul the urgency that had been driving them on wavered, and faded. The Nine drew reign on their mounts and stopped._ "...The Witch Kings presence... has faded..."_ A hiss arose from the others.

"_Weak he was... but faded... no..."_ Above them in the sky an eagle passing overhead happened to spot them. The eagle screeched, seeing the riders for what they were and fleeing.

"_We continue... to Gondor... the Witch King awaits us... I feel it..."_ Sudden silence stretched, there was no I, only we. Of all the Nazgul only the Witch king was an I… _"...The change has begun... We ride to Gondor, before we lose all..."_ Iron spurs dug threw horseflesh and the chargers reared and wheeled, vanishing down the pathways to the night beyond, their screams echoing threw the night.

**Within the White citadel, Aragorn:**

The warmth of a hand roused me, it seemed to ease some chill that had set upon me. "...Arwen..."

Another hand, "Wake my Lord, you must wake..." The light of early morning was coming in through the window; it burned my eyes with the whiteness of it. I found myself pulling away, wishing the windows shut tightly.

"That light… Gods that light Arwen!" I hissed out. Deep within me something screamed, the sound echoing inside me, turning my blood all to ice… Oh…

I see him, his eyes… Almost like a second skin I feel him turn his head in mine, look at her, don't look at her! He hisses, chuckles in my mind. (Don't look at her! I'll kill you if you look at her!) Something Molten slipped around my neck, burning the flesh though I saw my skin was unharmed! The pain and rage of the Nazgul tore at me, he shrieked, jerked and I jerked with him, we writhed together. My fist closed around the object, grasping the fire to pull it free… Once more her hands came, now their heat seemed unbearable.

"I gave that to you before, to keep you safe! Do you not recognize it?"

I opened my palm, the clear Evenstar pendant shone back at me. A moan of dismay threatened to escape me. "I cannot bear it... I cannot... its touch is like fire to me now!" She lay beside me, her arms wrapping me close to her. Deep inside the Nazgul lord stopped his ripping. The pain still burned him, I knew for I could feel it as well. But these arms around me confused him, drew him away form the hate and pain and into uncertainty.

"It will help to keep you strong, and keep him from controlling you. You must stay strong my elfstone, I will not lose you again. Do not leave me!" Her tears ran onto my cheeks. The wraith within hissed, confusion fading back into anger.

(…This pain, unbearable, I am slain by the very sword that saved us all...)

Short I know, Sorry!


	5. Chapter Four The Eagle's Warning

Author's note: I own nothing

**Chapter Four. The Eagles warning**

Gandalf stood by the outcrop of stones near the great Tower, the smoke from his pipe blowing away with the wind. Once again the dark prophesy ran through his mind…

Some of it was hardly encoded, other parts... "From your life... meaning that the life force is being shared between them? This in turn meaning that the Witch King was, is, desperate to remain on middle earth. Strange... It never struck me that the Nazgul could fear the unknown... although to my credit, it seems hard to believe they still have the humanity in them to fear."

From up in the White Tower the enraged shriek of the Nazgul sounded. Quickly Gandalf turned, ran back to the tower and up the stairs, bursting into the room in time to see the shadows fade as Aragorn's eyes shut once more. Arwen turned to him, her eyes bright with fear. "The dark one has him in his thrall Gandalf! he cannot even bear the feel of the Evenstar!" She looked back toward the King. "Can you not help him? I have never felt such, such a twisted darkness... he is a light being, it will destroy him completely! And it cannot..." She turned away from him. "I have seen that it cannot be, for when I was leaving to go over the sea, I saw a vision... he was happy with his son... they were laughing..."

Gandalf nodded, walking into the room and shutting the door behind him. "That is good to hear, it gives me new hope, and you have been weeping?"

She shook her head. "They are tears of anger, I fear for him, I hate enemies I cannot fight." The pendant flashed fiery red for a moment; Aragorn arched up with a cry and then fell silent. His face, still so pale, turned whiter still. His eyelids fluttered, opening weakly.

"Gandalf... you watch me as well..."

The wizard smiled, "Did you think I would leave you in your time of need? I merely wish we had reached you sooner." Aragorn smiled, wincing as he pulled himself into sitting position.

"No, the fault was mine, I should have told you I heard the Nazgul's cry… Gandalf..? What distresses you?"

The wizard closed his eyes. "The fact, high king, that you heard the Nazgul kings cry, and I did not."

… … …

Gliding over the plains unseen the eagle lord moved swiftly. He would reach the white wizard before the Black Riders, this much was certain. But the sooner he was told, the better all would be. Below a hawk shrieked out to question such haste. The eagle cried out answer and the smaller bird flew to spread the word. Soon all that traveled the air would know of the darkness coming. With a powerful flap of mighty wings the monarch rose higher still, gliding to the Pelennor fields and the city beyond them. To the white wizard in Minas Tirith. To hope.

… … …

Frodo watched the stain on the trunk of the white tree, his face expressionless, calm to most eyes. Not to Sam's eyes though. He sighed, watching Frodo with the same patience that his friend watched the tree. It seemed silly. Two days had passed with Aragorn awake but confined to his chambers, two days in which everyone on middle earth had seemed to come to visit him. But not Mr. Frodo  
He didn't even seem to be aware that the king was doing better, he just sat there, watching the tree, what is it he waits for? For it to blink at him?

"Mr. Frodo? Shouldn't we be going up to visit Aragorn?" It seemed the other had not heard him, for his eyes did not stray from the tree. Then a whisper, almost a sigh,

"Can't you see it Sam... see it spreading..." Samwise stood and moved closer, the mark was just as it had been before.

"No, I don't see it Mr. Frodo, it looks the same as it was to me."

Frodo's eyes rose to meet his, tired and old beyond their years. "No Sam, on the inside..." He turned back to the tree; "On the inside it grows..."

A great commotion arose from the city when the Eagle Lord was spotted, swooping around the White Tower and screaming forth his cry. People stopped to stare at the massive bird, remembering well the eagle's assistance in the war. Round and round he flew, circling until he landed beside the White Tree. Gandalf emerged from the tower, followed by Eowyn and Faramir and the rest of the original company.

"Hail Gwaihir the Windlord," Cried Gandalf, "Lord of the Eagles! May warm winds carry you safely!"

The great Bird lowered its head, "Hail Gandalf the White, Hail young Steward of Gondor, Hail slayer of the Witch King and Fellowship." Once more the proud head rose, sharp beak gleaming in the fading light. "I come with news unpleasant and warning grim, one of my liegemen on a flight near Minas Morgul spotted dark riders on the road to Gondor. They could possibly arrive in the Pelennor fields by the morrow."

A whispering grew among the spectators. Gandalf's face was grim. "All eight of the dark riders?" The eyes of all returned to the eagle.

"Indeed, the Witch King having already been here need not make the journey again."

The eagle turned its head, nodding for a moment before bowing it slightly. "Hail King of Gondor, may you be free from darkness once more." Behind the group stood Aragorn. His eyes grew cold, but he bowed at the waist regardless.

"Hail Lord of Eagles, we will never forget your assistance in our need." Gandalf watched silently, none had seen the king exit the tower, let alone move to stand before them. The voice he spoke with was icy, turning the air around him to chill. "The other Nine arrive by the morrow?" The eagle nodded, eyes sharp and talons digging into the soft dirt.

"By the morrow they will come."

_The eyes once clear the Darkness clouds...  
_  
The Eagle Lord hunched his form, as if ready to spring. "How will you receive them when they arrive?"

Aragorn smiled, "That will depend on how they behave once they are here. However, Gondor thanks you for your warning Eagle Lord." The two kings eyed each other in silence. Then with a screech, the Lord of Eagles leapt into the air and vanished in the flap of powerful wings.

Gandalf moved forward, catching Aragorn's attention. "Are you sure you are well enough to be about so soon? The wound was a deep one." (The wound went strait through your breast Aragorn, you are frightening your people and you do not know it…)

The king nodded, "I am, as always, grateful for your concern my friend. But the wound troubles me no further, so I must resume my duties."

Eowyn moved forward, "You should speak to Arwen if you feel well, she has been deeply worried over your injury." The king's face softened at this, one hand reaching up to touch the pendant before thinking better of it and adjusting his collar instead.

"Thank you Eowyn... I will do so."


	6. Chapter Five Khamul's hidden Motives

Author's note: I think my plot is finally starting to pick up here! I still own nothing.

**Chapter Five. Khamul's Motives**

The wolves scattered as the Black Riders dashed past them, frenzied howls echoing in the chilled air. The eight riders stopped at the hilltop, horses winded, their heads hung limply and they desperately lipped the grass.

Stretched before them lay the Pelennor Fields, and beyond... _"We must stop..."_ They turned their attention to the one that had spoken. Khamul watched the skies for a moment, his eyes glowing within the cloak. _"The eagles have been here, they are expecting us..."_

One of the others snarled. Another whispered mockingly, _"Are you giving orders now Khamul?"_ The two dark riders faced each other angrily, Eyes blazing.

Of course Khamul was giving orders; he was second in command to the Witch king, the next in line to lead by right! _"Are you challenging me?"_ Khamul hissed. The other rider reared his mount, charging the beast forward. Quickly the rest of the group dove between them, scalding the two with their glares. _"We are one group... serving one master... who leads is irrelevant for now."_

Khamul lowered his gaze, seething inside. Never had he felt hate toward his fellow Nazgul, always he had followed Sauron's will through the Witch king. To now turn against their own... _"It is the change at work within us..."_

The others whispered, _"We feel it as well... we must find the Witch King, he will know what we are to do..."_ Khamul nodded, reining in his charger and turning back toward the city.

_"Then let us go... they cannot stand against us, with or without our lords might."_ A glimmer shone in the others eyes. _"Shall we announce ourselves?"_

All nodded, _"We will announce ourselves, we are not defeated, we will not let them think we are."_

_**Minas Tirith, The White tower:**  
_  
All froze within the walls when the shrieks of the Nazgul reached them, rising over the city and echoing inside it. Gandalf rose from his seat, moving to the window and scanning the fields.

"Are we to just let them come!" Gimli muttered, "Run right up and knock on the gate! I say we fight!" Gandalf's brow furrowed.

"No Gimli, not yet... though probably soon. Aragorn wants to give them a chance to explain themselves."

Gimli huffed, "Aragorn you say? Aragorn or the Witch King?"

Gandalf sighed. His eyes watched the field, watched them advance through the tall grasses.

"Don't doubt him Gimli, Gandalf has not been wrong before." Legolas smiled, "Though just between us, I agree with you. I'd rather fight than let them come any closer."

Merry watched through the other window "Pippin, can you see that?"

Pippin ran over, "See what Merry? It's too dark to see anything!"

Merry pointed. "There! Over that rise! Red lights!"

Faramir entered the room, his expression grim. "Gandalf, the king requests you ride with him to the front gate to (greet) the riders." The expression shared between the two left a feeling in the pit of everyone's stomachs. "When the Nazgul attacked me, during the war, you drove them off with light. If you can grant the king and his guard the same protection, I for one would greatly appreciate it..."

Gandalf rose, moving to the door. "The king and you both know that I am always happy to lend my help where I can." Faramir nodded, holding the door. The two vanished down the hallway.

**Outside the White Tower, the courtyard:**

"Glad you could assist Gandalf!" Aragorn rode across the courtyard, "We have a horse prepared for you." He drew closer, "I am glad you could come my friend, I'm unsure what will happen. The safety of these men is my first concern. If things go wrong, do you think we can keep the Nazgul outside the gate?" The horse was led over; Gandalf took it and mounted silently.

"At first? Yes, we can manage that. If however, they should decide to lay siege..."

Aragorn nodded. "Then let us pray for the best, I will not put this city in danger if it can be avoided. If need be, can we slay them now that they are without Sauron?"Gandalf smiled, "Now there Aragorn, you have me." The party turned and spurred their horses, down to the front gates. The gate guards were gazing over the edge with wide eyes.

"My lord! They are at the gate!"

Aragorn nodded and moved forward. "Open the gates for me!" Slowly, the massive doors creaked apart, reveling to all eyes the darkness at their door. "Hail Dark Company," Aragorn called out. "What business have you with us? You come to our door, who among you will parley with me?"

One moved forward from the others, almost entering the gate. His breath sent a chill over them all. _"We seek the Witch King who last fought on these fields..."_ His voice was hoarse and rough from disuse, his eyes, smoldering coals in the darkness of his hood, never strayed from the Kings. _"I will parley with you, King of man… if I must."_

"Black rider, the one you seek fell on the field of combat, his robes lye torn and his mount fallen." Fire leapt from the Nazgul's eyes, a sound started to build, a scream… "Black rider I remind you that we speak in parley! If you breach this peace I will--" Aragorn's horse shielded, almost throwing him as the shriek rose. The Nazgul's charger reared and snapped his teeth. Still it grew louder and more shrill, the guards fell with their mouths open in anguish as blood began to seep from their ears.

_"Thou Lies!" _The Nazgul screamed. His horse bellowed and leapt forward upon them. The king's horse screamed in terror, bucking and throwing its rider before bolting back up the street.  
All fell still as a red flashed in the backs of Aragorn's eyes, "Sta_nd Down Khamul!"_ It was a roar colder than an arctic winter, freezing the stones so that the Nazgul's mount lost his footing on the cobbled ground. The Charger slid and crashed onto its side, pinning the Nazgul beneath it. The king advanced untouched by the cold, reaching down and grasping the Ringwraith by the front of its cloak as it stared at him transfixed. _"Never, challenge me again..."  
_  
_A hearth of ice his warmth enshrouds..._

Aragorn withdrew suddenly, crying out and falling beside the Nazgul. His hands ripping at the Evenstar that shone still from within its crystal depths. Gandalf sprung forward, casting his staff a-glow. With cries of hatred the Nazgul drew back, save Khamul still trapped below his steed. He hissed, eyes alive with fire. "Back Wraiths! Back into the shadows that you crawled from! What you would seek is not here!" Another wave sent horse and rider crashing out the gates as they slammed shut. Gandalf panted for a moment or two, then turned his attention back to Aragorn who now lay lank and silent. A guard looked up at Gandalf from the king's side.

"He breaths Wizard, but his breaths are so cold..."


	7. Chapter Six When Darkness falls the Nazg...

**Chapter Six. When Darkness falls the Nazgul Calls...**

Slowly, Khamul rose from where he had been hurled; pushing off his dead mount which had fallen onto his arm. The fall had wrenched the beast's neck, and its glassy eyes gazed in silent agony at its master. The Nazgul paid it no heed. Burning orbs stared emotionlessly back at the gate. The angry hisses of the other eight were growing louder.

"_We take the city by force! I saw him in the mortal's eyes!"_

Khamul snarled; again they were drifting different ways... should this continue... _"No..."_ the others turned to him, anger, hate, not at the wizard now, at him... _"Stop, I have done nothing... can you feel what's happening... we're changing, fading..."_ He pulled back his hood, and all seven drew back with a mournful cry. No longer could they with their flaming eyes see him clearly, he appeared as misty, only his eyes were still bright.

"_What... what does this mean to us... your face..."_

_"It means we are fighting among ourselves, which we were warned by the Eye to avoid.."_

One drew forward, his eyes frightened. _"Should we loose sight of each other completely... what will..?"_

Khamul pulled his hood forward to cover him, _"If that happens, we will cease to be... without the power of the eye... without even ourselves... we cannot hold on. We will cease..." _Again rose the mournful cry, fear and sorrow mingled in a shriek that threatened to shred the mighty walls with its shrillness.

**Minas Tirith: The White Tower**

Eowyn watched from the White Tower as the guard rode back up from the gate. She gave a soft moan and winched as the cry of the Nazgul sounded, starting a throb deep within the bone of her broken arm.

"Are they coming back, I can't, would you move elf! I can't see!!"

Legolas looked down at the irate dwarf, smiling playfully, "Pardons Gimli, but I don't think the fault for that lies with me."

With a muttered curse the dwarf pulled over a chair and climbed upon it. "smruffermanaramuff...arrogant Elves! fhrumaphrmana..."

Pippin cried out as the chair and its inhabitant rose up before him, "Gimli! Now I can't see!!"

At the other window Faramir watched the procession with growing dread, "They're leading his horse, why are they leading the king's horse..."

Merry looked over at Sam and blinked, "Sam, where's Frodo?"

Sam sighed, trying to get a better view, "I told him to come, but Mr. Frodo is determined to watch the tree. He wouldn't even eat if I wasn't bringing his food to him!"

Eowyn turned, her eyes worried, "Perhaps he should speak with Gandalf, it may bring him some peace." Sam nodded with a sigh, and then blinked as Eowyn turned from the window and bolted down the stairs, Faramir just behind her.

From his chair Gimli let out a curse, "Looks like I owe you elf, things didn't go well." Legolas paid him no heed as he sprinted from the room.

"What is it?! What's going on?" the hobbits charged after Gimli as he jumped of the chair to follow the others.

Gimli turned to them as he returned to the floor, "Gandalf's carrying strider, my hunch tells me there was trouble."

Sam shook his head, "I knew it! oh I knew it! I've got to tell Mr. Frodo! I'll meet you all at the gate!" Sam vanished down the stairs, leaving Merry and Pippin to sprint with Gimli to the others.

**Courtyard of the White Tree**

"Mr. Frodo! Mr. Frodo come quickly! There was trouble... Mr. Frodo!! Listen to me!!"

Slowly, Frodo turned his head to his friend, his eyes giving no sign of any emotion, "Oh Sam..." The eyes filled up suddenly and Sam froze, as the other hobbit's tears flowed, then moved forward to wrap his arms around Frodo's shaking shoulders.

"Mr. Frodo, don't despair! He's with Gandalf, and Gandalf can help with any wound those creatures may have given him!"

Frodo's head shook, he motioned helplessly to the tree. "No Sam! He can't! The wound is on the inside!! The taint... the sickness... it's killing him from the inside!!" A loud crack sounded, and both hobbits stared in silence as one of the tree's mighty branches broke from the trunk... and fell, landing at their feet.


	8. Chapter EightAnd from Within an Answer S...

**Chapter Eight. ...And from within an answer sounds**

Gandalf passed the king to Faramir as they drew reign before the small company at the doors to the citadell. Again, outside the walls, the Nazgul's cry tore the night's silence to shreds.

"Gandalf! He's like ice in my hands!"

The wizard nodded, dismounting quickly and moving swiftly to steer the group inside. "They may attack tonight, it is not safe to stand about outside. Give him to me in a minute steward, you should not hold such cold for long."

Faramir looked as if to question, but instead headed swiftly toward the hall of healing, calling to the others to follow.

Frodo and Sam dashed around the corner just in time to see the company vanish threw the doors. "You know Mr. Frodo, I always thought things would be easier after the war ended!"

Frodo shook his head, "The end of one war Sam turned out to be the start of a new war, and I only wish I could say that I'm surprised." Both hobbits dashed in after the others.

**Within the Hall of Healing**

The group watched silently as Gandalf attempted to rouse the king, to no avail. He breathed, at least; but his eyes did not flutter, and he offered no sound. "Gandalf, what is causing this? Does that demon have such a hold on him?"

The wizard sank down, nodding lightly to Legolas. "Unfortunately, yes, and no... it all goes back to the Witch Kings prophesy..."

Gimli narrowed his eyes, "Blasted prophesy... hold a moment... you never told us of a prophesy!"

"Prophesy?" Arwen looked about, confused. She turned to Eowyn, who looked at the ground and said nothing. "A prophesy?! Why did you not tell us?! Why did neither of you tell us?!"

"Do not blame her Lady Arwen, she was only doing as I had asked of her." Gandalf rose once more, one hand reaching out to brush the Evenstar pendant. Like fire it flashed, turning the air silver under his fingers. All cried out in shock As A deep shudder shook through Aragorn's form and a hiss, like frost coating a blade, came from between his tightly clenched lips.

"What... what is this prophesy Mithrandir..." Arwens lips trembled, "what is that, that creature! What is he doing to him!"

Gandalf returned to his seat, meeting all their eyes silently, until his eyes gently settled on hers. "To the best of my knowledge, the prophesy the Nazgul lord set into motion is as follows; he lives, at present, because the life of King Aragorn is sustaining him. This allows him energy, which he uses to heal from the wounds that should have been his end." The group's voices rose until Gandalf raised both his hands and cried out over them for silence. "I cannot tell you the entire prophesy if you will not be still!" With mouths silenced the group watched him once more.  
Anger was in many of their eyes, but even more was the fear... oh the depth of the feelings the Nazgul inspire... "Now, this prophesy is a temporary alliance between them, for as long as the Witch king resides in Aragorn he supplies him, he gives to him all his strength and terror. The Witch King will protect the one he resides in, until that one is no longer needed."

"No longer needed eh? Sounds like a deal those filthy beasts would make."

Legolas turned to Gimli, his expression grim. "Don't speak yet friend, I fear the worst is yet to come..."

Gandalf nodded, eyes dark compared to their normal light. "Your instincts, as usual my friend, are correct. When The Witch King regains his might he will somehow, according to the prophesy, return to Mordor. And within those mountainous walls, destroy any trace of Aragorn that remains within the body, and claim it as his own. In having done so he will be revived, stronger even than before. This is as it was said in the dark language, when I heard the prophesy first...The end of the king, at Mordor's gate, the final death... of light."


	9. Chapter Nine The Darkness Wakes

**Chapter Nine. The Darkness Wakes**

"_**A** moment... it was only for a moment... and yet they heard..."_

Darkness, blacker than the gentle shadow of night spread across the land. In their homes, brave men who had fought in the battle on the Pelennor fields cried out in sleep; pleasant dreams that had passed through their heads turning into ghastly nightmares of fields coated in blood and gore. And in their minds they saw him still, swooping down from above them, bringing despair, and death.

Eyes that shone with fire but burned with ice opened onto the city.  
Outside the walls he sought them, they were there. Snarling at each other the eight stood at sword point. Fiery eyes flashing with rage, anguish, madness... Khamul stood in the groups heart, trying to reason with his fellow wraiths. A wasted effort. The horses screamed as their riders advanced on each other, dark steel flashing. _Are they so lost to the shadows that they do not see their end? Have they lost everything?! Will they disgrace the memory of our lord with their petty bickering?!_

"_**A**re you ready to fade... to shame us all!"_

The hiss cracked like ice, the scent of fire came with it, strong enough to make the other Nine recoil. They stood in silence, reaching out around them with darker senses. A cry, ancient, came forth from the dark company; one of realization, of welcoming. It was a sound so much darker than all their other shrieks that the horses that carried them crumpled to the ground, eyes rolling dangerously in their skulls.

_"We are here..." They called out. " We saw you in the mortals eyes... return... we are incomplete... return and be nine once more..."_

Silence descended on the field, then a grating chuckle, deep and thick.  
A touch, like a glaciers caress, ghosted over them. Cooling the fever that burned in their eyes.

"_**P**atience..."._

The darkness withdrew, and the stars shone cruelly down upon them once more. Khamul turned toward the others, calm restored._ "We shall wait, he will return..."_

The group nodded, their eyes burning with an inner mirth. _"He will return, we shall be nine one more... Fools they were!! To think that any mortal could slay him!!" _

Under his hood the Easterling's eyes shone, dark with amusement._ "We shall be nine once more, ride together once more, and crush those who destroyed our lords ring!"_

The eyes flashed, shrieks pierced the air,_ "We shall slay once more, for our lord!! For his defeat!! We will triumph!!"_ The walls of the city shivered as the Nazgul cried forth their bloodlust, and the earth herself shook.

**The Citadel: The Hall of Healing**

"Will they attack tonight Gandalf?"

The wizard turned his head slightly, listening to the cries from bellow. "No Frodo, they are prepared for battle, but seem to be waiting for it. They will not attempt anything tonight."

Frodo nodded, his eyes straying to the doors, to the area outside them, to the tree...

"Mr. Frodo, do you want me to come with you?"

Frodo turned surprised to Sam, "If you wouldn't mind, the company would be... please come Sam."

Samwise nodded, gave the others a nod, and ran after his friend.

Pippin shook his head, "Those two... I was afraid they had grown apart because of all this."

For the first time that evening Gandalf smiled. "Grown apart? After all that trouble they went through together? I think not, they are close, it will be a comfort to both of them if they remain that way." The Wizard rose, moving towards the doors, "We should probably take shifts watching the hall, I will take the first, Legolas, if you would not mind going after?"

Legolas shook his head no, "I will follow you, no worries friend. Perhaps then Gimli..."

A low huff, "I could take all the shifts, we dwarves are renown for our endurance after all."

Faramir smiled, "Very good, I'll follow you once that famous dwarf endurance wears off." Gimli sputtered for a moment, then turned and followed Gandalf, Merry and Pippen followed after him, grinning at each other. Faramir, turned, nodding at Legolas and Arwen as he took Eowyn's hand and lead her outside.  
For a moment there was silence in the room, "Sut naa lle?"

Arwen looked up, smiling sadly. "Amin dele ten' ho..."

Aragorn stirred lightly, wincing with an unseen pain, before falling silent once more, his breaths deep.

"Amin hiraetha..."

She smiled at him, her eyes still sad.

"Elf! it's not your shift! Get out here!!" Legolas shot a dark look at the door, mumbling a curse under his breath. "aminmerna aut?"

Arwen nodded, her face once more to the kings. Silently Legolas moved to the door, pausing just before opening it. " Quel kaima."

Outside Gimli shot him a look, "We're watching the outer wall for now, what took so long?"

Legolas gave him a pained look, " Dolle naa lost!!" The elf prince strode away, leaving behind a very perturbed dwarf.

"...I really wish he wouldn't speak to me in elvish... stupid elf, can't even speak to me grunblesacafracasmuf..." and with one more huff he ran after him.

**Translations**

Sut naa lle: "how are you"

Amin dele ten' ho: "I am worried about him"

Amin hiraetha: "i'm sorry"

amin merna aut: "shall I go?"

Quel kaima: "sleep well"

Dolle naa lost: "your head is empty"


	10. Chapter Ten When all the Light has Fled ...

**Chapter Ten. When all the light has fled from sight**

The city awoke, as when the sun rose it must, still weary from the nightmares that had plagued it during the night.  
The men went to their jobs, questioning each other when they saw others looking haunted, and tried to understand how all of then could have had the same horrific dream. The women went about their tasks, and the children of most families ran of to find a way to amuse themselves. None were the wiser for what had happened while they slept. Then a commotion arose. Those who were working on repairing the city on the other side of the fields, to reopen the city's trade, were stopped at the gate.

"The Black riders are at the gate!! If you go out, you won't come back in!!"

**The Citadel: Hall of Healing**

Aragorn woke slowly, pushing past a shield to open his eyes.

Once again, the sun was to bright... he turned his head away, mentally cursing the Nazgul King. "Out of all your dark brethren, I thought you had the most tolerance to sunlight..." He returned his glare to the window, determined to be able to look at the sky. Deep inside the Dark one retreated slightly, then surged forward with a shriek. Aragorn fell to the floor hands over his ears. "Enough!! Enough of you!!!" The wail faded and Aragorn lifted his head, looking around slowly. The light no longer seemed so bright, as if a veil of some sort had been put in place. No longer a glowing white, but a dull gray.

A sound from the door, Arwen was starring at him, her eyes wide as she looked upon his face. "Mani naa lle umien?!"

He drew back as if struck. As harsh as the language of Mordor was to Elves, it was that their language was now hateful to him. "What am I doing? What do you mean?"

She froze, her gaze still intense on his face. She opened her mouth to speak but he raised his hand. Silently she nodded, opening her mouth again, "Your eyes... what has he done to your eyes?"

He sat silent for a moment, rose and approached her, and stood in shock as she retreated from him. "Arwen... why..." she shook her head and pulled further into the corner.

"See them! look at yourself!!"

**Outside the Hall**

Gandalf turned, stunned as a scream from the hall pierced the air. Quickly he ran, calling the others. They had also heard and needed no urging.

Aragorn strode out of the hall, his eyes dark. More than dark, they were like midnight in midwinter.

"Strider!! What happened?"

He did not pause to look at Pippin as he disappeared into the keep.

Gandalf looked after him for a moment, then vanished into the hall, most of the fellowship behing him.  
Inside Arwen lay silent, her eyes closed. Legolas knelt by her side and nodded to Gandalf.

"She fainted, I do wonder what he could have done to make her faint. She is a strong spirit."

Gandalf shook his head, taking his place beside Legolas. "She hasn't fainted Legolas, look at her hands."

Legolas looked down and swore. Fine trails of frost twined their way around her fingers, ice coated the tips. "She must have tried to touch him... "

Gandalf nodded, "And the Witch king must have been active when she did so, do not go after Aragorn, Legolas. He needs time alone. And we will find him eventually, the pendant will..." The wizards words stopped, he rose and moved slowly to the corner of the room, gently bending down and raising something from the floor. "I rethink what was just said, we need to find him."  
In his hand, flashed the Evenstar.

**Translation**

Mani naa lle umien: what are you doing?


	11. Chapter Eleven Memories burried

**Chapter Eleven. Memories Burried**

Aragorn passed threw the streets swiftly, in fact, perhaps to swiftly. It is not the lot of men to move with such flow, or so little effort. The crowd at the gate had grown, and the air was filled with shouts and cries as they struggled to go back up the roads to their homes.  
Through this suffocating throng he moved without pausing, causing people to turn and stare for a few moments, trying to see if their king had just passed by. At the gates he stopped, locking eyes with one of the gate watchers who shuddered at the intensity of his glare.

"Why is everything stopped?"

The crowd shouted out until none could be heard, and Aragorn raised his hands for silence. Slowly the racket died down into a mere hum. The gate guard swallowed.

"They want to work on the port your majesty, but the dark riders are at the gate! We cannot let them pass! It would be a slaughter!!" Aragorn narrowed his eyes, this was not a fight over the city, it was a fight between them! And those wraiths had no business pulling his people into the brawl.

"Open the Gate, and close it behind me."

The guards froze, "My lord! Surely not alone..."

Aragorn drew his sword, not noticing as a thin layer of frost coated the blade. "Open The Gate!"

**Outside the Gates**

With a creak and groan the gates swung inward; The Riders raised their heads, squinting in the sunlight as Aragorn stepped through and the mighty doors slammed behind him. For a moment there was silence, then a cry, low at first, but gaining strength quickly rose from the Nazgul. They were calling out to him, a dark welcoming, a damned greeting of cursed brethren to one of their own. It rose and fell as the wind, twining around him and pulling at the one who lay silently inside. And it filled his mind with blazing fury.

(They welcome me? How dare they welcome me! How dare they call me one of them! Bad enough what their leader has done. Endanger these innocent people, cursed my body, Manipulated me! And harmed my Arwen when she reached out to hold me! To make the very touch of my love burn like fire! To flee from the sun!)

**"Damn You!"**

**  
**With a cry Aragorn leapt at them, his steel flashing as the blade turned icy. One stepped forward to meet his lunge, and gave a hiss of pain as the blade sank deep into his shoulder. The other Nazgul cried out as Khamul crumpled under the force of the king's blow, sinking into the dirt before him and the hood falling back from his face.

…And as Aragorn watched, the face of the wrath came into view; the eyes of fire, and the cheeks gaunt and sunken. Then just as quickly came another face; one of an old easterner, his eyes dark and deep, a smirk on his mouth.

"Khamul..." the name fell with a hush from Aragorn's lips. Khamul, who had always been a constant companion, a worthy and loyal follower, intelligent and strong. Always there when needed, willing to perform any task without question, loyal Khamul, dependable Khamul, the only one of the nine who could be considered a companion, a war partner, brethren, brothers...

With a cry he pulled free the blade and watched, relieved, as the face and all the Witch kings memories faded. But a growing terror filled his heart as he gazed upon the others, for now all had faces, all had names, all looked at him with pain in their eyes, fear in their voices. Almost as if they wished to draw him to them, but were afraid to attempt it.

Below him Khamul moaned and drew back, one hand over the wound that dripped black blood onto the field. A deep pity replaced the rage and terror in Aragorn's heart; perhaps this was the same feeling Frodo had spoken of with Gollum? He tried to take all sharpness out of his voice, "You cannot stay here, there is nothing for you. Return, return to where you belong. You chose your fates long ago..."

The other seven had gathered around Khamul, one helped him onto a dark steed; the others kept their faces lowered. _"We cannot, we will not, we have found him, we will not leave him, he knows, he will come."_

Aragorn shook his head. "He cannot come, he will not come, he fell in battle, and Gandalf will find a way to purge the residue of his existence from me."

A slow hiss, almost like laughter rose from Khamul, _"Your doubt betrays you, king of men, for he stands within you now. I hold not your fear against you, for you are mortal yet, and it will fade when you join us."_ Aragorn began to protest but the burning eyes of the riders stopped him. _"He will take you with him, and when all is done, both he and you will be with us. For one cannot become part of another without that one becoming part of him." _

A shudder shook the Nazgul's form as the wound closed over. He turned the horse, pulling to a halt before Aragorn and almost gently, despite the gauntlets, placed something small in the palm of a hand that Aragorn had not been aware of lifting._ "This will make things easier, for the both of you. In goodwill, king of men, we will withdraw beyond the fields, but we will be waiting." _The horse reared as the Nazgul shrieked, and the others charged after him until they vanished from sight.

With shaky movements, Aragorn lifted the object up to catch the fading rays of sun.

Between his fingers, glowed the Ring of the Witch king.


	12. Chapter Twelve A powerless Ring?

**Chapter Twelve. A powerless Ring?**

Gandalf watched the scene on the field from one of the towers, his face showing clearly an inner turmoil.

The Nazgul crumpled under the blow and lay before Aragorn, grasping his shoulder in what must have been pain. The hood flew back from the face and Legolas tightened his grip on the arrow between his fingers. "Now Gandalf?"

The wizard shook his head no, "Not yet, He must see clearly what he is fighting against."

Gimli cursed between his teeth. "Oh I'd say he knows what he's fighting, he looks like he just gutted Faramir or something to that effect." Gandalf's eyes widened, indeed, Aragorn bore the posture of someone who had slain a comrade in arms...

The band watched disturbed as Aragorn drew back in horror, wheeling around and retreating from the other wraiths who let forth a cry that rose and fell like the breeze. The one called Khamul, clasping his wound, drew back to the others. And Gandalf watched silently as he felt Aragorn struggle, for he no longer felt the rage that had been in his heart. Gandalf pondered; (what could have caused it to fade? Surely the sight of the empty hood…) Gandalf froze. (Perhaps, for Aragorn, the hood had not been so empty… perhaps he has seen the wraith within? But still that would not explain this change, this turn from burning rage to such deep pity…)

And both his insides and Aragorn's turned to ice as they saw the mounted wraith move forward and place something in the king's hand.

"Oh no… put it down Aragorn…" The rest looked confused at Gandalf, who's voice continued to grow louder. "Put it down Aragorn… Aragorn! **Put it down!"**

On the field the horse reared, retreating from the white wizard and taking its rider and company out of sight over the plains until not even their cries could be heard.

Alone on the field, Aragorn stood, and raised something to the fading light. From the king Gandalf sensed two emotions… despair, and triumph.

**Running to the Gate**

"Gandalf! what is it? should I have let lose upon them? what have they done!" Legolas ran after Gandalf, a deep worry in his heart. something has happened... something for the worse... (we should have shot at where they stood...)

The gates burst open in a flash of white light. Gandalf, Legolas and Gimli vanished through the mighty doors.

The gate guards shook in wonderment of what could have upset the wizard to such an extent. "Do you figure there's been trouble? I've never seen im like that before."

The other shook his head, "Told you we should have sent for the guard! The kings been alone with those things!"

Within moments, the group had returned, Gandalf and Legolas on either side of the king, Gimli following behind and murmuring obscenities about the Nine with little to no regard of who may be listening.

The people of the city watched silently, and wondered... had the price to regain the port, been more than their king could pay?


	13. Chapter Thirteen And Broken Splinters of...

**Chapter Thirteen. And broken splinters of mortality fall...**

**Conclusion**

Frodo watched. He watched the tree, he watched the branches bend and the flowers fall, he watched the tree dying...

"Mr. Frodo?... Mr. Frodo... are we going to sit out here again?" Samwise sank down beside him, looking at his eyes and then back to the tower.

"Did they find him Sam?"

The other hobbit started for a moment, surprised by the comment. "You didn't know Mr. Frodo? They found him all right, he's in the tower now. He had another run in with the Nazgul. You know Mr. Frodo, if I didn't know better, I'd say he's looking for trouble with them!"

Frodo shook his head, "Not trouble Sam... just them, he's always looking for them now..."

The other hobbit was silent. In the distance the cry of the Nazgul sounded, muffled in the night by the space between them. "Sam... do you wonder... why the symbol of this city is a tree?"

Samwise shrugged, "A tree's sturdy? It has good roots? Looks nice on a banner? Happens to grow right next to the tower? Is unusually white? I don't know Mr. Frodo, why do you ask?" Frodo didn't answer, and the two sat in silence as the moonlight fell upon the topmost branches.

**The Citadel: The White Tower**

Aragorn sat alone in the room, the others long since gone. Part of him cried out; it wanted to leave the tower, check on the city, on Arwen... That part was silent for now. The other wanted nothing more than to ponder this ring. It was not like the ring of power, they felt nothing alike... that had compelled even from a distance. And if you even touched that ring... The king shuddered; (it had only taken one touch for Boromir...) And once again he pondered the ring.

It felt normal, what a funny way to look at a ring of power, normal. The smith who forged it would be insulted! But truly, it felt normal, its stone did not seem to flash with any inner fire, it was a simple weight in his hands. (Perhaps,) he mused, (the rings were innocent carriers of power? True, the one ring had been Dark in its very core, but had it not been forged just to control the others? While the others in question had been forged as gifts? How had it gone... Three for Elven kings... Seven for Dwarf lords... Nine for mortal men, and one ring for the darkness?)  
A feeling gnawed at him, that there was more to all this then there appeared to be, yes this was not the ring of power... but was it not still a threat? Or was it?

A knock sounded and Aragorn opened the door. Gandalf stood in the door frame, looking old. His eyes did not shine as they were warrant to do, and he seemed bent, though he stood at his full height.

"Gandalf, are you well? You seem..."

The wizard shook his head and entered the room. "Worry not for me Aragorn, not when there are so many other things to worry about." Aragorn nodded, and suddenly the repressed side broke free.

"Gandalf, Arwen! How is she? When she touched me, I didn't realize, and she..." Gandalf whispered something and Aragorn froze as his voice faded.

"Peace Aragorn! She was stunned but is fine now, and wishes to see you. There is however a matter we must resolve first." Aragorn nodded, and motioned to his throat. "Ah yes, I felt it had to be done, forgive me." The spell faded.

"The riders have retreated beyond the northern border."

Gandalf nodded, "We are all thankful for that, I myself am not sure how I would have withstood another night of shrieking." The two chuckled for a moment before an uncomfortable silence settled between them. "Aragorn, the Witch King's ring, I want you to give it to me."

Aragorn nodded, "I imagined as much."

**Outside the Door**

"What are they saying in there?" Gimli muttered, looking over at a hobbit who had his ear pressed tightly at the crack in the door.

"Not sure, they're very quiet in there... but I think that's strider talking..."

Legolas shook his head. This felt foolish, listening at the door like children, (were it not the importance of the situation I would never...)

"How about now?"

Merry gave Gimli an annoyed look. "To quiet still!"

Another few moments of silence, "...Now?"

"Still to quiet!!"

"If you get much louder they'll be listening to us instead of us listening to them!" they all turned and watched Faramir sit down beside them. He looked pale, his eyes slightly sunken from lack of sleep.

"Are you well?"

The steward smiled at Legolas, "Well enough, all considering... And you? All of you?"

The group mumbled a basic consent of wellness before settling back into silence.

"How about now?"

Slowly, Merry turned to look at Gimli. His eyes were wide in fear, not needing to say anything, his expression was enough. The entire group pressed against the door, wincing as the volume in the room rose to a painful pitch.

"We need to intervene, I have a bad feeling... oh no..."

Frost was inching its way around the door, twining itself into frozen strands as the air around them chilled. Legolas and Faramir exchanged a silent look, and prepared to fling the door open when suddenly!...the noise ceased.

Outside by the white tree Frodo froze, Sam shook him to no avail.

In the hall of healing Arwen cried out, disappearing out the door even as Eowyn ran after her.

And across the fields a cry rose from the dark company, hoof beats like thunder drew closer to the city...

For a moment, time, stood, still.

The door to the tower room crashed open as the fellowship poured inside. The table lay in splinters on the ground, one chair was smashed against the wall, and near the window a dark black stain dripped, pooling on the floor,  
...but there was no sign of the wizard, or the king.

_"Returned will be the Ringwraiths might, Return to darkness... Sorrow all."_

To be Continued in:_ **The Ringwraiths Ride for Mordor**_


End file.
